Southern Discomfort
by KDSanders
Summary: When human bones are found inside the belly of a large mouth bass, the team heads to rural Alabama.  Rating for later chapters. Complete.
1. Where to Start

**(A/N: Ok, its been a while since Unearthed, so I figured it was time to send the team out on another case. This chapter is kind of slow, but its mainly to set things up. Hope you enjoy. Many thanks to Leila Grant for all her amazing help.)**

**Chapter 1: Where to Start**

"_Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief. For the rest of us death will be a relief. We all deserve to die." Sweeney Todd_

The plane was already on its way south when Garcia appeared on the computer screen.

"Greetings my lovelies," she said. "In Columbiana, Alabama a fisherman caught this creepy looking Bass in Lay Lake, a manmade inlet of the Coosa River. When he filleted said fishy he found this." The picture changed to a off-white bone caked in mud.

"It looks like a phalange," Reid said looking closer, "or a particularly long tarsal."

"That would be a finger," Garcia replied. "Confirmed human."

"Bass are extreme omnivores." Reid continued. "They're essentially freshwater sharks. Known to scavenge bodies left it the water. Were they able to find the rest?"

"They found more than that," Garcia said, "Divers found the remains of several bodies."

"Several," Morgan asked. "Exactly how many are we talking?"

"At least 23," Prentiss said looking over the photos, "If you count the skulls."

"You said this is an inlet of a river," Rossi asked.

"The Coosa," Garcia replied. "Formed by the joining of the Oostanaula and Etowah rivers, it runs from Rome, Georgia southwesterly to the Gulf of Mexico. Most of it is sectioned off with dams by the Alabama Power Company."

"There are dozens of tributaries in both Alabama and Georgia," Reid added. "Altogether its spans about 280 miles."

"How do we even know where to start?" Morgan asked. "Our kill sight could be anywhere northeast of Lay Lake."

"Not necessarily," Rossi said. "The bones collected here because of the dam. The water slows and larger objects are deposited there. There is another dam up river here at Lake Logan Martin," he said pointing at the map. "Our sight is somewhere between the Logan Martin dam and the Lay Lake dam."

"We're still looking at fifteen to twenty tributaries," Prentiss said, "30 miles of river."

"Then I'd say we have our work cut out for us," Rossi said.

The plane landed at a small airport about 10 miles outside of Columbiana. From the looks of it this airport couldn't handle anything much bigger than their jet.

Prentiss stifled a snicker as Morgan mumbled something about Mayberry.

A Columbiana sheriff's deputy with pair of SUV's waited for them.

"I'm Roland Jeffers," the deputy said.

"I'm Agent Jennifer Jareau," JJ said taking her usual lead. "This is our Unit Chief SSA Hotchner. And these are agents Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid."

The deputy shook hands with each member in turn then looked towards the SUVs. 'The chief said to bring you into town and let you get settled into your motel, then bring you over to the station. I can take three of you with me in the lead car, and the other three can follow."

"Lead the way," Hotch said.

Deputy Jeffers cruised down the winding two-lane highway that led into Columbiana. Traffic lights and fast food restaurants gave way to stop signs and mom and pop stores. Residential homes were situated directly off the highway and large fields of crops or livestock became more frequent. As the team pulled up to their motel, they didn't hold high hopes for the place.

"I'm guessing they don't serve a continental breakfast," Rossi joked as retrieved his back from the trunk.

To their surprise, the team found the rooms clean and well cared for. Within fifteen minutes they'd checked in, dropped off their belongings, and headed for the police station.

The police station, it turned out was also the municipal court house, the fire station, and the town hall. The post office sat in a small building directly across the sqauare, and a church sat off to each side.

"What was that you said about Mayberry," Prentiss said.

"You're not kidding," Morgan replied.

"You'll be in here," Deputy Jeffers said directing them towards a door marked Court Room. "There isn't much room in the police station. We brought you in a phone line, some tables and this hub here connects to our DSL system."

"Thank you," JJ said. "If you would, please let Chief Vick know we've arrived."

Pictures of the recovered bones were posted on corkboard around the room, but that was the extent of the information.

"Where do we start," JJ asked Hotch, who was surveying the photos. "We don't have much to go on."

"We'll have to wait for forensic analysis of the bones," he replied. "Then we can check it against missing persons reports."

"Hurry up and wait," JJ said with a sigh.


	2. Harpersville Inn

**(A/N: Many many thanks to Leila Grant for being an awesome beta and helping me out on this. Hope you all enjoy.)**

**Harpersville Inn**

Tolbert shuffled into the kitchen. His hands were caked in mud and other filth. Instinctively he went to the sink and started to wash.

"What in the Sam Hill are you doin'," Imogene cried, snapping him with a dishcloth. "Yur gettin' that muck all over my collards. Do that in the washroom. I swear you ain't got the sense you was born with."

The man shrunk like a scolded child and made his way to the washroom.

Tolbert Pierce was in his late forties, but his mind had never aged past that of a child. His slow nature and his strange appearance made most people uncomfortable. His lower jaw jutted out further than the top, his nose and ears seemed too big for his face, and tufts of salt and pepper hair sprung out like straw from his balding head. His skin was weathered and wrinkled by years unprotected from the sun.

Imogene, his sister, had been taking care of Tolbert since he was a baby. His mother died giving birth to him, or so he was told. He didn't really understand what that meant.

Dead he understood. Dead meant asleep. Dead meant not waking up. Dead meant gone forever. Dead like his Daddy. Dead like his old Coon dog. Dead like those men from Imogene's bedroom.

In his 39 years Tolbert knew nothing outside of the small town of Harpersville and the Inn his family owned. He'd never been sent to school. His father didn't see much of a point. Try as she might Imogene could never teach him how to read or write. He spoke very little and could only count to twenty.

His father taught him to work. He mowed the grass and weeded the flowerbeds, did small repairs around the Inn and helped Imogene with her chores as she directed.

Imogene was a lot older than Tolbert. She was 14 years old when her mother passed away and her father pulled her out of school to take care of the boy. Now in her fifties Imogene had spent most of her life caring for her brother and running the Inn.

The Inn was small. In all her years Imogene hadn't remembered it taking more than two people to run and care for the place. There weren't many visitors, never had been. Imogene liked to imagine that her parents had once had a booming business with a constant flow of visitors. They'd opened the Inn in the days of traveling salesmen and family road trips. Perhaps when the Harpersville Inn had first opened its door it was the ideal place to spend an evening.

Now the take from the Inn was barely enough to cover the utility bills. They'd realized years ago that they'd lose their home if they didn't come up with some way to make money. That way was the Taste of Home Diner.

Taste of Home Diner, or just Home Diner as the locals called it, was the most popular eatery in town. They usually had three rushes a day, coinciding with the lunch break of all three shifts at the near by Russell Athletics factory. Their bar-b-que was famous in this area. Imogene's secret ingredient was a closely guarded secret.

Tolbert came back to the kitchen when his hands were washed and found a plate of hamburger steak with gravy, mashed potatoes, pinto beans, and cornbread waiting for him.

"Greens," he asked.

"Ain't ready yet. They gotta soak fur a while. They'll be ready fur supper."

Tolbert ate silently as his sister hurried about the kitchen.

The bell chimed, signaling that someone had come in.

"You eat," Imogene said heading to the front dining room. "I need ya to change the light in the sign out front when yur finished."

Imogene walked into the front dinning room of the diner and saw a man in his late forties looking around.

"Can I help you sir?" She said sweetly.

"Yeah," he said, "I'm looking for the owner of the Inn next door. I wanna see about getting a room."

"That'd be me," she replied. "Just you?"

"Yes ma'am."

"How many nights."

"Well…." He said, "You see, the thing is…I don't…"

She smiled slyly. "You don't have no money do ya."

"No ma'am I don't."

She crossed her arms and looked the man up and down. Though in her fifties Imogene Pierce wasn't a bad looking woman. She'd kept her figure through years of hard work and healthy habits and thanks to a steady supply of Clairol she was still a stunning blonde.

The man was fit as well, though it appeared he hadn't showered in a few days. His clothes were dirty and tattered. But his eyes were a bright blue and the sun had bronzed his skin.

Yes, Imogene thought, yes, he'll do just fine.

"Come with me," she said heading out the door to the Inn's front office. Walking behind the counter she grabbed a key off the wall.

"Go ta room 3. Take a shower. You got some clean cloths?"

He shook his head.

"Give me yur bag. I'll wash em'. Then you get dressed and come to this door," she said pointing to the door marked manager behind her. "9 o'clock tonight. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am," he said shyly. "I think I do."

"You can come by the diner fur supper if ya want. That's covered too…just make sure yur at this door by 9."

Imogene laundered the drifter's clothes and took them to his room. He was in the shower when she entered the room, so she left the clothes on the bed.

That evening the diner had its usual supper crowd. Around 7 the drifter sat down and silently gobbled down a plate of pot roast and vegetables.

When the diner cleared out Imogene left Tolbert to clean.

"I'm headin' to bed," she said. "I'm dog tired."

"Night," he said clearing some plates from a table.

"Oh," she said as she reached the door. "could you come by an check on me later? I just don't feel safe with that feller stayin' here. You know how men can be."

Tolbert nodded.

The drifter showed up at 9, washed and clean-shaven, much to Imogene's liking. She invited him in, wearing nothing but a silk robe.

"What's your name," he said in an attempt at small talk.

"Imogene."

"I'm Danny."

"I don't care," she said reaching for the button of his jeans.

Danny didn't bother to speak again as Imogene removed his clothes and pulled him on to the bed.

Before long they were a tangle of flesh and bed sheets. Animal urges pushed them on in an emotionless search for distraction and release. Imogene allowed her self to scream with pleasure and quickly heard footsteps approaching her door.

She smiled as the knob rattle and twisted.

"No! No! Stop! Please stop!"

Danny stared at her confused, but before he could ask what was wrong something struck him over the head. He fell dead across Imogene's naked body, covering her from her brother's eyes.

"Oh Tolbert. Thank you. Thank you so much. Yur my hero."

Tolbert's hands were shaking, still wrapped around the tool that now dripped with Danny's blood.

"Hand me my robe," she said "and I'll help you with him."

When she's dressed she wraps the blanket around the man's body.

"River," Tolbert asked.

"Nah," she answered. "Not yet. Bring him to the kitchen first."


	3. Alabama Summer

**(A/N: Again, thank you to** **Leila Grant for being an awesome beta.)**

**Alabama Summer**

It was full-fledged Alabama summer. The temperature had been in the 90's for weeks and there was no relief in sight. In their three days in Alabama the team had visited dozens of possible sites for dumping bodies into the river, bridges, boat launches, any area of sure with ease of access. As they made their way back into the courtroom turned layout room, Prentiss plopped down in an empty chair.

"Someone tell me why I insist on wearing these boots?"

"Because you're part of the 21% of women who choose fashion over comfort when concerning shoes."

Just then a black leather high-heeled boot came soaring towards him. He dodged at the last minute, taking it in the hip instead of the gut. He looked at her with a snarl, but she was already tying a pair of black Chuck Taylors.

"This is getting us nowhere," Morgan said taking a big gulp from his water bottle. "We've searched dozens of sites and we're still no closer than we were before."

"And I swear if I get one more bug bite," Prentiss said rubbing something over her blotchy arms. "I'm going to scream."

"How about you complain a little," Reid laughed.

"How about I hit you with my other boot."

"Now kiddies," JJ said picking up her ringing phone, "play nice." She flipped it open. "Garcia, you're on speaker phone."

"Who's your favorite tech goddess?"

"What do you have baby girl," Morgan asked.

"Analysis just came back on our bone."

"And," Rossi prompted eagerly.

"And we have 23 separate victims. All bones matched to one of the skulls, though there weren't enough bones to complete all 23 skeletons."

"Were you able to find any matches in missing person," Hotch asked.

"Seventeen of the 23 have been reported missing from the southeastern United States: Georgia, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana. Then I expanded my search nationwide and found reports for the remaining six, one of them from as far away as Oregon. I'm sending profiles to your PDA's now.

"Some of these reports are pretty old," Morgan said. "Going back six or seven years."

"All male," Hotch pointed out. "But age and race are all over the place."

"Pretty high risk life styles. Prior arrests for panhandling, solicitation, drug possession. They were runaways and addicts."

"This certainly narrows it down," Hotch said.

"How so," JJ asked.

"Their most likely mode of travel would be hitchhiking. You generally don't hitchhike on back roads. We need to be looking at main highways and interstates."

"The closest main thoroughfares are US Interstate 65 to the west and US Highway 280 to the north and east."

"Do either of those cross the river in our perimeters," Prentiss asked.

"Highway 280 crosses the Coosa between Harpersville and Childersburg."

"Alright," Hotch said. "Rossi, Reid and Prentiss, you take the Harpersville shore. JJ, Morgan, and I will take the Childresburg side."

The climb down to the shore was steep on either side of the bridge. Rossi had to grab Reid twice to keep him from falling.

The red clay of the shoreline was hard and cracked from weeks of hot summer days. Reid mentioned that the erosion of the bank led him to believe that the water level had dropped drastically.

Slowly and carefully they made their way south from the bridge. A fall would be more inconvenient than dangerous at this point, as the water wasn't flowing more than a trickle.

About thirty yards from the bridge, Prentiss called attention to something white sticking out of the mud.

Reid moved in as close as he could.

"Human bones," he said. "Pretty fresh from the looks of him."

"Fresh," Rossi said. "He's nothing but bone. How fresh could he be?"

"Less than 48 hours," Reid said seriously. "He was butchered like an animal."

CSU was making their way down to the body by the time the team made it back up the bank to the main road. They found Hotch and the others waiting there.

"The bones were probably thrown from the bridge," Reid commented. "Post mortem breaks seem consistent with the fall."

"The bones were thrown," JJ questioned.

"The body was butchered." Rossi replied. "Skin, muscle and organs removed like livestock."

"The low water level threw him off," Morgan said. "The bones weren't carried away like they were before."

"That means something else too," Hotch said. "The other pieces wouldn't have been carried away either. Scavengers would have gotten to some of it, but we'd find most of it still here. What happened to the rest of the body?"


	4. Profile

**Profile**

Imogene brushed some sauce onto the meat and then closed the smoker door tight. Wiping her hands on her apron she made her way back into the dining room to check on the breakfast crowd.

"Somein' smells good in that kitchen Imogene," Stan Barber said as she refilled his coffee cup. Stan was the floor supervisor for the day shift at Russell. He stopped in every morning for breakfast and again at lunch.

"Thank you Stan," she said sweetly. "I'm smokin' some pork."

"MMM, mmm, mmm," he said. "That gonna be ready by lunch time?"

"Near about. Today's special will be barbecue pork with baked beans and some lemon icebox pie to beat the heat."

"Then you just have me a plate of that ready fur lunch."

"Will do," she said hurrying to fill more cups.

When the breakfast crowd cleaned Tolbert cleaned the dining room, then went outside to weed the front flowerbeds.

The team was sad to leave their hotel in Columbiana. It was small and modest, but it was clean and the service had been outstanding.

"I'm going to miss those pillows," JJ sighed. "I should have asked the owner what brand they were."

"I'm going to miss the coffee," Spencer added. "Remind me to buy some of that Red Diamond before we head home."

They pulled up to their new motel with a touch of sadness.

The paint outside was badly flaked, the parking lot wasn't paved, and no one manned the desk inside the office.

"Maybe it's nice," Morgan said. "Looks can be deceiving around here."

"Excuse me," JJ called to a man working in the flowerbeds. "We need to rent some rooms."

The man ignored her.

"Sir," she called again.

He straightened up from his work and pointed to the diner.

As the approached the door a woman came out to greet them.

"I'm sorry," the woman said "I didn't see anyone pull up. I'm Imogene Pierce," she said offering her hand. "How can I help y'all."

"We need some rooms," JJ said. "Six of them if you have them."

"Sorry, Sugar, I only got five rooms open right now."

"Five is fine," Prentiss said, "JJ and I can room together."

The rooms were small, but clean. The beds weren't as comfortable as the other's had been, but they needed to be closer to the dumpsite, and thus, the unsub.

Later that day they delivered their profile to a group of state, county and municipal police.

"This unsub is local," Hotch started. "He needs a private location to kill, butcher and dismember his victims."

"That being said," Prentiss continued, "He isn't very intelligent."

"What makes you say that," Chief Vick from Columbiana asked.

"Weather reports show that there has been no rain in this area for weeks," Reid said. "An intelligent person would know that the river would be low and less likely to wash away the bones. Also, he isn't watching the news or reading the paper, or he would know his dumpsite has been compromised."

"This makes us believe he may have a partner." Rossi added. "Killing and disposing of 23 people without getting caught take some since. We believe he has a dominant partner who may be running the show."

"What are they doing with the rest of the bodies," one officer asked.

"At this point we can't be sure." Morgan said. "Dismembering the bodies and leaving the parts in different places could be a countermeasure thought up by the dominant partner, or it could serve another need."

"Meaning," the officer prompted.

"He could be eating them," Hotch replied.

The room erupted in chatter. When things settled a state trooper spoke up.

"Why is he killing them?"

"We believe that the dominant partner believes he is doing a service." Prentiss said. "We call these un subs "house cleaners". Because the victims are vagrants and runaways he may believe that he's is riding the world of them."

"Where should we be looking for this person?" Another officer said.

"Hitchhikers tend to stay to main roads," Reid said. "You need to be checking restaurants, hotels, convenience stores, anywhere they may have found a ride, a place to sleep, or food."

When the group had disbursed the team when back to the courtroom to plot their next move. In the end, they decided to start at the bridge and question people at public places until nightfall.


	5. In the Spider's Web

******(A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading and a HUGE thank you to my awesome beta Leila Grant)**

**In the Spider's Web**

Imogene stood behind the counter ringing her hands. What were they doing here? Why would there be federal agents here in Harpersville?

It was bad enough they'd checked in here, but now they were talking to the customers. She couldn't make out what they were saying over the clink of silverware against plates. Finally one of the agents made their way to her.

"Mrs. Pierce," the man said.

"Please, its Miss, I never been married."

"I'm sorry," he said. "Miss Pierce, I am SSA Hotchner I'm sorry that I didn't introduce myself before. May I ask you a few questions?"

"By all means, Agent Hotchner, anything I can do to help."

"Being on the main highway, I'm sure you see your fair share of drifters, hitchhikers."

"That we do," she confessed. "I try my best to help em out. Offerin' food and lodging fur odd jobs here-n-there."

"Do any of them seem to suddenly disappear?"

"They're drifters, Agent Hotchner, that's their nature ain't?"

"To a point," he said. "What I mean is, have any disappeared in the middle of the night with out checking out? Went into town leaving their clothes behind as if they expected to return?"

"Yes, now that you mention it, a few have. I just figured they was tryin' to get out of workin' off their stay."

"May I ask you," he said delicately, "about the man you have working here?"

"Oh that's my brother Tolbert. He ain't never been right. They have a word fur it now I'm sure, Autism or Retardation, somethin' of the sort. Doctors always just said he was simple or touched in the head."

"Has he ever been violent to your knowledge?"

"Oh heavens no! Tolbert is as sweet as they come. Never so much as killed a bug. I've gotta do that round here."

"Even so I have to ask, has he been disappearing at all? Coming back with blood on his clothing?"

"No, no, nothing like that. At nights I lock his door from the outside so he doesn't wander off and through out the day he's always here with me."

"Well," Agent Hotchner said giving her a card, "If you happen to think of anything, or see anything strange give us a call."

"Or I could just knock on yur door," she laughed.

"I suppose you could."

The door chimed indicating someone had entered or exited.

A Hispanic man in his late 40's was standing in the doorway with a military duffle bag. He looked like one of the bad guys from an old Clint Eastwood movie. Full mustache, a little beard stubble, sweat on his brow and the corner of his eyes creased from years of squinting in the noonday sun.

"Anybody working in the office next door," he asked over the chatter.

"I am," Imogene said. "s'cuse me Agent Hotchner…duty calls."

By the time she approached the man he'd just introduced himself to another one of the agents.

" Mr. Torres," a dark haired woman said. "We'd love to speak to you further when you have a moment. Once you've settled that is."

"Yes ma'am," he said in what appeared to be a thick Texan accent. "I'll give you a call once I've gotten a little sleep if you don't mind. Been on the road for a while."

"This way sir," Imogene interrupted.

When they reached the office the man stopped.

"I don't have much money," he said honestly. "I didn't want to say so in front of all of those people but if I could just sleep for a little. I'll give you all that I have."

"Don't you worry, there are other ways to pay," she smiled and handed him a key. "Go shower and get some sleep, but be back at this door at 11 o'clock tonight. Understand?"

The man nodded then retreated shyly to his assigned room leaving Imogene alone smiling like a spider with a new fly caught in its web.


	6. That's Not Pork

******(A/N: Again...big thank you to my readers...especially Leila Grant for all her help.)**

**That's Not Pork**

By 10am time the next day Prentiss still hadn't heard from the Xander Torres. Finally, she decided to go to his room and speak to him.

As she approached the door Prentiss heard a vacuum cleaner running and noticed the door was cracked. Pushing the door open she saw Imogene Pierce cleaning the room.

She jumped as she saw Prentiss out of the corner of her eye.

"My gracious," she said switching off the vacuum. "I'm sorry darlin' you startled me."

"I'm sorry Miss Pierce. I was coming by to speak to Xander Torres."

She looked at her blankly.

"The man who is renting this room?"

"Oh! The Hispanic fella. I'm sorry, he checked out first thing this mornin'."

Prentiss pulled out a notepad. "Did he happen to mention where he was going?"

"Said somethin' about trying to catch a ride. Heading fur Georgia if I recall."

Prentiss sighed and put her notebook away.

"Y'all gonna join us fur lunch," Imogene asked. "Went to the butcher last night, so I got some fresh barbeque smokin' right now. Should be ready in just about an hour. On the house if y'all are interested."

"Thank you," Prentiss said. "We can't accept it for free," she insisted, "but I'll see if I can get the rest of the team to meet up for lunch."

Two hours later the team sat at a large round table waiting on their food. Imogene emerged, arms burdened with 6 plates.

"I've got a cheeseburger and fries for you Miss Prentiss. A salad for you," she said to JJ, "though trust me darlin' you could stand a lil' meat on them bones. I've got barbeque chicken for you Agent Hotchner. Bacon Cheeseburger for you," she said placing it in front of Rossi. "Chicken Finger basket for the little guy" she laughed. "And last but not least a rack of ribs for you handsome." She put a large plate of ribs in front of Morgan. "Now if you need some more sauce you let me know. It's my secret recipe."

The group eyed their food excitedly and began to eat. Reid was pouring ketchup on his fries when Morgan pulled the first rib off the rack. Immediately Reid stopped him.

"What," Morgan asked confused.

"Don't eat that," he insisted. "Let me see that."

Reid took the barbequed rib and studied the exposed bone ending. Then, sitting it down on the table he peeled the meat away with his fork.

"Spence," JJ said, "what are you doing?"

"This isn't pork," Reid said darkly.

"Okay," Prentiss remarked.

"It's not beef either," he cleaned the bone of meat. "This is a human rib bone."

The team looked around the room, trying to place Imogene. She wasn't there. Under the table there was a faint sound of guns being pulled from holsters.

Hotch and Morgan slowly entered the kitchen through the swinging door behind the counter, while Rossi and Prentiss went out the front door to cover the back and JJ and Reid went to check the office.

The kitchen was empty. Pots left simmering on the stove, fry left on, a couple of hamburgers burning on the grill. Hotch opened the lid of the smoker and closed it as Rossi and Prentiss entered.

"Is it," Prentiss asked.

"Xander Torres if I had to guess," Hotch said.

"No one in the office," Reid said joining them.

"Looks like a car peeled out of here pretty quickly," Rossi said pointing out the back exit. "I'm guessing she hit the road right after bringing our food."

"What about the brother," Morgan asked.

"No sign of him," JJ answered.

Hotch pulled out his phone and dialed. "Garcia. I need the make and model of any vehicle registered to Imogene or Tolbert Pierce."

"I'm finding a blue 92' Dodge Dynasty. Registration is current."

Rossi had already dialed his phone and was now ordering an APB on the Pierce's car and roadblocks. "Give me check points at every 10 miles. They don't have much of a head start."

Hotch's phone rang. "Hotchner. We're on our way." He hung up. "State police have them surrounded on the bridge. They're refusing to exit the vehicle."

Pedal to the floor and lights flashing the team reached the bridge in only minutes, to find Imogene and Tolbert still in the car.

"What's the situation?" Hotch asked.

"They're just talking," Chief Vick said. "Looks like the brother is upset about something. He keeps hittin' himself in the head and rockin' back and forth."

"He's can't handle the stress," Reid comment. "He could snap if we don't ease the tension soon."

Hotch took the bullhorn. "Imogene Pierce. This is the FBI. Roll down the window and slowly put your hands out."

Imogene did as she was told.

"Open the door and slowly step out."

Again she obeyed.

"Place your hands on your head and get on your knees."

She placed her hands on her head but didn't kneel.

"Please," she begged. "Don't kill me. I didn't do it. It was him. He said he'd kill me if I didn't help get rida the bodies. Please I'm innocent."

In the car Tolbert was rocking faster.

Reid took the bullhorn. "Tolbert. I need you to get out of the car. No one is going to hurt you. We just want to talk."

He slid out the open door, a rusty pocket knife clutched in his hand.

"Tolbert drop the knife. No one is going to hurt you."

"It was him." Imogene yelled. "He killed em."

"No, no, no," he said pounding his fists against his head. "I saved you. They hurt you. Hurt you in bed. Hurt you like Daddy. I did good."

"Is that what you told him," Prentiss said approaching slowly with her gun drawn. "Every time he found a man in your bed you told him he was hurting you."

"He's lyin'. He killed em. He's dangerous."

"No. I'm good. I'm good." Tolbert grabbed Imogene around the shoulders and held the rusty knife to her throat.

"Tolbert," Reid said closer now. "Tolbert put the knife down. We know you didn't mean to hurt those men. You were trying to help your sister."

"Tolbert. Please. Please let me go," she begged. "You wouldn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt yur momma."

"Momma?" Tolbert questioned as the knife drew blood from Imogene's neck.

"Yes," she said franticly. "Yur momma. I'm yur momma."

"Momma dead." He said.

"My momma's dead. Died fore you was born. That's when Daddy started comin' to my bed. You was born fore anyone even came around askin' bout momma. So we buried her at the family plot and told em she'd died havin' you."

Tolbert's head swung side to side as he tried to make sense of what he was being told. Slowly he started backing up.

"Tolbert," Reid said, "Drop the knife. You don't want to do this."

He backed up until his legs pressed against the side of the bridge.

"Step away from the ledge," Prentiss said. "We're going to take you somewhere safe. I promise."

In a quick movement Tolbert pushed Imogene away and leapt over the side of the bridge.


	7. In The End

**(A/N: This is a short chapter, but I just had to find some way to wrap it up. Hope you've enjoyed it.)**

**In the End**

Hotch stood overlooking a large-scale excavation behind the inn.

"How many so far," Rossi asked.

"Almost forty. Reid says all men. They're sending a camera down into the well to check there too."

"ME's office just called. They've exhumed the father's body. Original death certificate called the death accidental. Garcia found something in a local paper about a fall from a ladder."

"What does the ME say?"

"He's never seen a fall leave a waffled pattern on a skull before. His best guess is he was hit with some kind of tool. I collected this from the kitchen for comparison."

Rossi held a bag with an antique cooking tool. It had a wooden handle and a solid metal head. One side was pointed like a dull ax and the other has nine little prongs spaced in a waffle pattern.

"What is that," Hotch asked. "An old meat tenderizer?"

"Looks like it."

The flight home was quiet, as it usually is on a tough case.

Imogene Pierce was awaiting trial in Alabama for the murder of 76 men, including her father. Tolbert Pierce was dead. The city of Harpersville was short an inn and a restaurant, something they didn't exactly mind when the discovered the secret to Imogene's barbeque.

"_The world is a dangerous place to live; not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don't do anything about it." ~ Albert Einstein_


End file.
